


Rescue Me

by Dragonite_Postal_Service



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Red Rescue Team & Blue Rescue Team
Genre: (only implied) - Freeform, Abduction, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bulbasaur Partner, False Accusations, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Injury, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Machop Player, Memory Loss, Mistakes Get Made, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Original Player Character, References to Depression, Self-Doubt, Tags May Change, Trans Male Character, Violence, basically an alternate ending to the ninetales legend segment of the game, in which the player is captured before reaching ninetales, the player character’s past is ambiguously rough, things will get ugly but the ugly will get better, this entire part of red/blue rescue team was really kinda fucked up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22190836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonite_Postal_Service/pseuds/Dragonite_Postal_Service
Summary: If the truth was ahead of them, they never made it. A duo of best friends is left separated after a fierce ambush is finally successful in capturing them on the run.The Pokémon world is ready to celebrate—for when the captured former human dies, peace will be regained once more.(Alternate end to the Ninetales Legend arc in Red/Blue Rescue Team where the player and partner are caught before they can make it to Ninetales.)
Relationships: Absol & Kyukon | Ninetales, Bangiras | Tyranitar & Foodin | Alakazam & Lizardon | Charizard, Foodin | Alakazam & Wanriky | Machop, Fushigidane | Bulbasaur & Wanriky | Machop, Fushigidane | Bulbasaur/Wanriky | Machop, Gangar | Gengar & Player Character (Pokemon Mystery Dungeon), Partner Pokemon & Player Character (Pokemon Mystery Dungeon), Partner Pokemon/Player Character (Pokemon Mystery Dungeon)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 52





	1. Against All Odds

**Author's Note:**

> Pokémon Rescue Team DX hello???? Best news of 2020 maybe??  
> These first mystery dungeon games were huge parts of my life early on and my partner in the game was a friend when I really didn’t have any. It taught me a lot about friendship, made me laugh, made me cry, and just made me have a lot of feelings.  
> This idea in particular has been swimming around in my head for a while (it’s almost a year old, in fact, but I never jumped to write it until a month ago) and I’m glad I could finally act on it. Despite all the tags this story will definitely not be hurt-no-comfort—I’m physically incapable of writing straight up angst.  
> It’s very much still all a work in progress and I’m kind of stumbling around it by myself so if there are any errors or just things that could be better, please let me know!  
> Otherwise, enjoy the ride.
> 
> Fun fact! Albany, the main character, is named after the Shakespeare character of the same name (guess the play!).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journey is abruptly ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from Alakazam’s quote: “Against all odds, you must run. Run, run... and survive.”

Even the beautiful flurries of the Frosty Forest had disappeared, leaving in its place a wasteland of pure white, where the cold was inescapable even beyond the snow and permafrost running deep into the ground. Snow and sleet, flung by unrelenting winds whipped against Albany’s exposed skin, one of the first reminders he’d had in a long time of just how human he was in a life he couldn’t remember. But the feeling of wind and snow pounding on bare skin was enough to remind him, trigger faint flashes of memory, walking through similar storms and burying his face in a jacket to ward off the bitter cold. The rest of the recollection remained shrouded in darkness or obscured by a fog of lost memory—and Albany had finally learned to accept the facts that all this mulling over faint glimpses of barely-intact memory would do nothing but drain him.

And if that was considered draining, then after all the walking, climbing, fighting, and the insufferable _thinking_ , Albany’s emotional state had run completely dry. Keeping his eyes on the path ahead (or, rather, the endless wall of white) was becoming such a challenge as more of his will was sapped with each step. 

There was nothing left to comfortably focus on. His body ached and his joints cried out in agony as he trudged on. It was impossible to think about his past without his own doubt in his character and history creeping up on him. Even focusing on his partner, his best friend and the Pokémon who had brought him solace in the past whirlwind of a six months he had spent in the Pokémon world, refused to bring him any comfort. If anything, it created a stomach-turning visceral guilt that clawed at his insides until he looked away. 

As comforting as it had been to have him here, it was now more than ever that Albany wished Arlo hadn’t come. It wasn’t his battle to fight, even Alakazam had made that clear the night before they skipped town.

 _“And not just you,”_ the veteran rescuer had cautioned. _“Anyone who goes with Albany will be considered an enemy.”_

Make no mistake, he had narrowed his eyes and looked directly upon Arlo as he said that. The message was for no one but him, and one look into Arlo’s eyes at the time made it clear he understood that.

And yet, here he was. 

This kind of harsh weather was not at all suited for a Bulbasaur, but if anything, Arlo was pushing ahead of Albany. The signs of exhaustion on him were telltale, though. His knees buckled with every step and ears folded back against his skull. Even his bulb had paled in color, clearly suffering in the bitter cold. 

As he helplessly watched his partner struggle, one particularly ugly thought continued to persist. What if he really was the human spoken of in the Ninetales legend? He cringed as Arlo fumbled over a piece of ice, nearly planting face-first in the ground. Would this, and all of the suffering Arlo had put himself through, really all be for nothing?

As much as Arlo had insisted there was no way he could ever have been such a selfish, cowardly and cruel human, Albany had his ever-persistent doubts. He ran a finger over one such source of doubt—one of the two scars that curled around his chest, sticking out like a sore thumb against his gray skin. He didn’t know what a Ninetales was, but from the legends, it seemed to be a truly mighty Pokémon. 

One that could have easily left scars on an impudent human who touched one of its tails, perhaps...

Albany gritted his teeth, pulling his hand away from the scar and fixing his gaze back on what little snow-covered scenery there was before him. He had to stop thinking like that until he had definitive proof—for Arlo’s sake, at least. 

Ahead of him, Arlo sneezed. His weakened legs finally gave and he tripped over himself, sending clouds of snow flying as he fumbled for his balance. As much as he wanted to help, Albany’s own worn legs could hardly carry him far enough in time. By the time he had reached Arlo’s side at a pathetic running pace, the Bulbasaur had already hefted himself back up on trembling legs. Arlo glanced in Albany’s direction, giving the Machop a small smile, one that said “I’m fine”. 

Nothing felt fine to Albany. 

But “fine” was the act he carried on, nodding back at his partner in understanding. He fell back into his own position, shielding his eyes from the wind and sleet and pretending that he really did believe that Arlo was fine. 

He couldn’t figure out which was harder—pretending not to be positively consumed with worry over Arlo, or pretending like his doubt in himself wasn’t growing with each heavy step. 

A shadow passed overhead. With both the clouds above and snow all around, it was a challenge to notice, but Albany swore his world darkened just slightly, if only for a moment. He glanced tentatively over to Arlo. No response. Absol, too, made no noise behind them, only the crunching of snow and ice under his paws indicating that he really was still there. Albany ruled it as a symptom of exhaustion and marched on. 

When the shadow swept by again, it was harder to write off. Albany tensed as Absol snarled behind him, turning his nose skyward. Even Arlo, so concentrated on the path ahead, came to a stop and followed Absol’s gaze. The near wall of white that surrounded them made it nigh impossible to clearly see the sky, but not one of the team members missed an unmistakable shadow slice through the snow for a third time. 

“Wha...” Arlo shrunk back, retreating back towards Albany and Absol. “H-H-How are there still other P-P-Pokemon out here...? A-And flying, too...”

“A-Absol,” Albany began, trying to contain a bout of shivers. “Do you think that might be Articuno?”

“No,” the response from the Disaster Pokemon was immediate. “We’ve traveled farther north than his territory extends. There is no reason Articuno would be here.”

“Wha... what else could make it out here...?” Arlo puzzled aloud, burying his face in the thin fabric of his team scarf. 

The question was answered in the form of a faint orange light from above, weak, but shining just bright enough to cut through the surrounding blizzard. Perplexed by something so different than the world of white they had trekked through for so long, the trio remained focused on the light, murmuring over what the source could be. As the light brightened and grew closer, a distinct and welcome warmth hit their shivering forms, and had it not been for the hulking shadow now serving as the light’s backdrop, they would have stayed to savor its warmth.

The team scattered, Absol’s long legs serving him as they did best, carrying the dark-type over the snow and beyond a nearby treeline. Albany and Arlo, completely foreign to the environment, had no such luck. The duo had only made it a few shaky steps each before the source of the warmth and light had finally descended upon them. 

A Charizard, donning a familiar scarf of yellow, green and red, scattered snow with the messy landing. One sweep of his mighty tail not only vaporized every inch of snow that came close to its crackling flame, but swept the weakened Machop and Bulbasaur off their feet. 

“Arlo—!” Was all he could cry, reaching out for the partner who had left his line of sight in the chaos. 

Before he could even begin to struggle to his feet, a pair of rock-solid arms forced him back down, needle-like claws digging into his near frostbitten skin. 

“Alright, I’ve got him!” Another familiar voice thundered from above him. 

Pushing against several days worth of exhaustion and weakness, Albany kicked out with his unsecured legs, blindly hoping they would connect with something. His efforts were met with a heavy tail slamming down onto his legs, frozen knees locking from the force with an audible snap. Albany gasped as pain surged through his body, going limp from the shock. 

“Stay that way,” the voice ordered him, pushing down further on his heaving chest for emphasis. 

“Please... don’t... d-don’t hurt Arlo...”

“So you do care about your partner how, huh? What about Gardevoir? Maybe if you grew a heart back then, the world wouldn’t be the mess it is now!”

“I-I don’t know!” Albany wheezed, surprised vomit hadn’t come up with his words. “Pl-pl-please, I don’t remember!”

“Calm down, Tyranitar. He’s pushed to his limit—let him be.”

Albany let himself go limp again as the third familiar voice of the day saved him from his fate. 

“What, aren’t you even slightly miffed that we’ve ran ourselves ragged to catch him, Alakazam?!” Tyranitar snarled, substituting one heavy foot where his hands had once been. 

“He gave them the head start, remember,” Charizard called from over Albany’s head. 

“Right, he did. Which there was no reason for! We were only putting the world in further danger letting them carry on like that!”

Alakazam fell silent, and without anything to focus on, Albany’s consciousness began to fade.


	2. Don’t Think Badly Of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team ATC is homeward bound again, and Absol racks his brain for a way to remedy the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a particularly fun chapter to write! Not only because this is really a story that’s super self indulgent and therefore fulfilling to me to write, but I got great enjoyment out of expanding on the personalities of some of these minor characters. For as present in the game as team ATC is, their moments of character development are pretty few and far between—and Absol also got very little screentime for all the buildup around him in the Frosty Forest.  
> Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Chapter title taken from Charizard’s quote: “[Partner]. Don’t think badly of me. I don’t know how to show any mercy.”

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

Alakazam slowly met Tyranitar’s eyes. 

“...No.”

Pushing past Tyranitar, he moved to the crumpled figure of the Machop in the snow, taking in his still-twitching, emaciated figure. Charizard and Tyranitar had begun mumbling to themselves about who-knows-what behind him. Alakazam sighed, knelt down and touched two fingers to Albany’s neck. 

It took him a moment to find the arteries, but after some readjusting of his fingers, he felt a faint flutter of a pulse. Pitiful and slow from overexertion and the beginning symptoms of hypothermia, but still there. It likely wouldn’t last long in this cold. 

Alakazam wished the town council hadn’t decided to insist upon bringing the fugitives back alive. If the instructions were any different, he would have ended Albany now, for mercy’s sake. The ambush had taken the last bit of strength, and by extent, life, right out of the Machop. Just looking at him made his stomach twist in discomfort. 

Picking him up was easily done. Albany had become skin and bones in the past month on the run, critically lacking in much of the muscle that made him a fighting type. Alakazam slung the unconscious Pokémon over his shoulder and returned to his still-chattering teammates. 

“Charizard,” he began with authority, immediately earning the fire type’s attention. “Take him.”

He shouldered Albany onto Charizard’s back. Charizard promptly lowered himself to all fours and spread his wings for takeoff. Alakazam hopped onto Charizard’s back afterwards, ready for the long flight home. At least Charizard enjoyed flying.

“Hey, Alakazam?” 

The team leader tilted his head to meet Charizard at eye level, who had craned his neck to look at the passengers. Tyranitar, still aggravated from the previous conversation, kept his distance, but was clearly tilting his head to listen in. 

“What do we do about Arlo, huh?”

Alakazam shifted his gaze to the Bulbasaur laying a few feet away, already half-buried in the rapidly falling snow. Motionless, left to the mercy of the elements in a state not much better than that of his partner’s. He sighed. Even in the face of Alakazam’s warning, Arlo had remained devoted to saving his best friend... and here was where that selfless devotion had gotten him. Alakazam was no stranger to the unfairness of the world, but this was a travesty on its own level. 

“Do we take him, too?”

Alakazam snapped out of his daze.

“No! No. Absolutely not.”

Charizard gave him a puzzled look.

“You’ve seen what the two are capable of together,” Alakazam elaborated. “Taking down Zappos together on Mt Thunder... together, those two could easily escape again. And for the sake of peace, we can’t chance it...”

“I hear you. So we leave him here?”

Alakazam chanced another look to the Bulbasaur, his face still scrunched up in unconscious suffering. 

“...No. The elements will eat him alive out here. Fugitive or not, we would shame ourselves as a rescue team if we left a Pokémon to suffer such a painful, slow death. Bringing Albany back to the square in his condition is cruel enough. I won’t allow any further moral atrocities... we will drop him off in a more temperate area on our way back.” 

“Got it,” Charizard nodded, hovering his tail over Arlo to melt the fine layer of snow that was already beginning to cover his frail figure.

“Tyranitar,” Alakazam called to his third teammate. “Are you digging your way back?”

“I sure hope so!” Charizard added with a bright, albeit forced smile. “I wouldn’t want to carry the both of you!”

His attempts to lighten the mood went unappreciated by his comrades. Dejected, Charizard resumed preparing for liftoff in shameful silence. 

“Yeah,” the Armor Pokémon drawled as soon as Charizard shut his mouth. 

“Be safe on your journey, then.”

Without any other conversation, Tryranitar drove his claws into the dirt. He struggled briefly, scraping slowly through the layers of permafrost, but managed to make his way underground in a matter of minutes. Alakazam and Charizard both watched as the frozen earth split along Tyranitar’s digging path.

“...You think he’ll get over himself on the way?”

“He has his reasons to be frustrated with this mission,” Alakazam sighed. “Make no mistake, this was not something I wanted to embark on, either.”

“Because you liked those kids so much?” Charizard stretched his wings out to full length, giving them a test flap. 

“Mostly for that reason,” Alakazam put a hand firmly on Charizard’s back to steady himself the moment the fire Pokémon’s feet left the ground. “They showed great promise, and kind hearts. A wonderful rescue team.”

One look at the confused expression Charizard was wearing told Alakazam that he did not feel the same sympathy for the pair’s plight. “Y...yeah. Can’t say I feel the same as you, but I don’t like being told this kind of danger was living right under our noses.”

That was not at all what bothered Alakazam about this whole sorry affair, but he let it pass. After tireless weeks on the road just trying to accomplish this mission, he didn’t feel up to bringing up his sympathy for the Pokémon, lest he start a rift in the group when their job was so close to completion. 

“Are you ready?” he changed the subject, making sure their passengers were secure.

“All set to fly!” Charizard’s eyes sparkled, and he extended his wings out to their full span.

With a mighty beat, Charizard was in the air again. It took him only a second to accommodate to the additional weight, sinking a bit in midair, but soon found his stability again. A shot of Flamethrower was discharged from his mouth, evaporating some of the swirling snow ahead. He charged through the brief window he’d made for himself, spreading his wings above the dense layer of clouds at last. 

Alakazam closed his eyes and folded his legs, but not before making one final check on their passengers. This would be a long flight, and no time was better than now to meditate.

——

Absol nudged aside the branch of a frozen pine. He looked skyward, watching the blizzard quickly swallow the escape route Charizard had made back up. 

Arlo had certainly referred to both himself and his partner as fugitives in Absol’s presence before, but this was... unprecedented. Living in isolation with nothing but the unending snow to keep him company, Absol had assumed those keeping them on the run could never reach them here. The unforgiving climate drove away most Pokémon, leaving only a small handful of well-adapted individuals to call this region home. 

Somehow, even he had been taken by surprise.

Silent as the night, he slipped back into the path. Surveying the scene of the attack, which was quickly being swallowed back up by the snow, he strained his memory for every past conservation he’d had with the two.

Fugitives, on the run. He knew that, it was the key reason they were out here. Absol paced a circle around the indents in the snow. There were plenty more hospitable places to take refuge, much more so than this wasteland. No, there was another reason, something they were looking for...

He stared off into the white abyss, tracing idle patterns in the snow with his claws. Something else. He was certain one of them had mentioned it in passing, at least once. His paw swirled as he began to make sweeping spirals. Nothing was resurfacing. The spirals were interconnected by a drifting claw. 

It was no use. Perhaps it was the still-remaining shock of the attack, but Absol couldn’t conjure up the reason. Frustrated, he finally slammed his tracing paw in the snow, destroying at least half of whatever design he had been scratching out. Absol hung his head, drawing in a sharp, frustrated breath and stared down at the design that had resulted from his brainstorming session. 

What remained of the loops and lines he’d etched were clumsily interconnected by curved lines. Half of the designs he tried to connect were completely off from each other—making it glaringly obvious that he hadn’t been looking while he drew it. Really, with the addition of his paw print, it most closely resembled some child’s attempt to sketch out a Tentacruel mid-attack, a group of awkward-looking Kecleon, or a Vulpix with an out-of-proportion unfurled tail.

...Vulpix? Absol paused at that thought as he watched the snow begin to fill the pattern in. The thought of the Fox Pokémon struck him with an air of familiarity. 

“Ninetales,” he breathed in realization, the reason finally having stuck him.

They were searching for Ninetales! Of course, she was a figure of legend, and Absol had little better idea of where she could be residing than the other two did, but he had a target now!

Absol kicked off and proceeded down the path, further north, as they had been heading originally. He could never catch up to a flying Charizard, but he could complete this mission on his allies’ behalf.


	3. Forded Fetid Swamps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo wakes up in a familiar place—Albany does, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from “Forded fetid swamps...” in the game’s narration of the fugitive arc.

Arlo’s senses returned to him one by one.The first was smell, bringing with it a musty, suffocating odor made thick with humidity. Next came hearing, only announcing its presence with a subtle ringing in his ears. Touch followed that, overwhelmed by a thick murk that seemed to swallow him whole and glue his sore limbs in place. Taste came trudging slowly behind as he grew aware of how uncomfortably dry and _salty_ his mouth had become. Finally sight came along, flickering in and out, hardly making a difference in the darkness he found himself in regardless.

Only a spot of moonlight hitting a patch of grass a few feet away told him that yes, his eyes were open.

Arlo shifted in the uncomfortably tepid substance he was submerged in. Whatever it was had solidified around his limbs, keeping them contained in stiff casts. In what little moonlight shined down on him, the Bulbasaur could at least tell that whatever he was in was quite dark.

As his awareness grew, the fog of exhaustion that hung over his memory, too, began to slowly depart. What became a groggy, confused awakening turned to panic the moment the events that had preceded his fainting came rushing back to the forefront of his mind. Unrelenting snow. The fleeting hope that they had made it far enough. Smiling, just for Albany.

The attack.What was left of his tattered memories could hardly be considered coherent, but it was enough to send Arlo into a panic. His head whipped around wildly, tired eyes searching the darkness fruitlessly for his partner.

“Albany,” he whispered to himself, feeling his thumping heart creep into his throat.

Panic at last took hold of him the moment he realized there was no such Machop in sight. Arlo kicked at the murk that kept him confined, thrashing to free himself from its time-solidified grip.

“ _Albany!_ ” He called into the darkness, newly emboldened as he yanked his left foreleg free.

“ _Albany!_ Please, where are you?!”He couldn’t be gone. Not his partner. He’d come with Albany in the first place to keep him safe on the journey! After all this time, all the progress they had made, was it all for nothing?

They were going to kill him. That was a fact Arlo forced himself to turn away from, but with Albany gone and likely in the hands of another rescue team, the weight of his capture came right back. “Get rid of Albany”, the townspeople had cried, “get rid of him for good”. There was no better way to beat around the bush—they wanted him dead.For all he knew, the deed could have already been done.

The thought made Arlo’s stomach lurch violently. No, no, no, no, no! Tears beaded in the corners of his eyes, and with a forceful tug, his second foreleg was freed.

“Please, tell me you’re out there, Albany!” He screamed into the night, digging frantically through the substance that held him captive.

Under the light of the moon, through his tears, Arlo could see the dark crust that had formed to cover his limbs. It cracked and split as he moved—mud, it was mud, he realized. This was a swamp they had crossed on their journey out.

\---  
_“Watch your step, this mud’s—“_

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_Arlo yelped as the mire suddenly swallowed his entire left foreleg, nearly taking his chin with it. The fall pushed up a corner of his mouth, allowing a clump of the mud to find its way inside. Arlo flailed, in shock from his stuck limb and in disgust over the mud he was now urgently spitting out. Finally, his frantic pawing about found him a large cluster of rocks, which he quickly hoisted himself up onto._

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_The moment he stopped to catch his breath, he glanced up to see Albany, only a few feet away, flaunting his bipedal privilege with mud only up to his knees._

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_“I tried to warn you,” the Machop frowned at him._

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_“Well,” Arlo sighed, scraping the mud off himself with his claws. “Some of us are a lot lower to the ground.”_

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_Albany stood in silence while Arlo puzzled over the bog. He placed a foot on the mud’s surface to test the depth, only to retract it the instant it was nearly devoured by the marsh. The mud squelched as Albany waded from where he stood, hovering beside the rocks. Turning away from his partner, Albany gestured to his back._

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“Try this.”

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_Arlo didn’t waste any time in locking his claws with his partner’s fingers, boosting himself up to Albany’s shoulders. He wrapped his rear legs around the Machop’s torso and repeated the process with his forelegs, lacing the claws together to ensure he wouldn’t slip._

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_Albany stumbled for only a moment, tottering as he adjusted to the weight, but soon he lifted a foot and took a confident stride through the mud._

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_“Am I too heavy?” Arlo asked uncertainly, watching Albany stagger again._

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_“N...No. You’re good.”_

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_Arlo looked away, but still had his doubts. He set his gaze skyward, where the setting sun peered sparingly through the dark canopy of spiraling willow trees above. Ahead of the pair was a sizable stretch of bog still left to cross, spanning at least over ten feet. Inspiration suddenly struck the Bulbasaur._

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_He extended his vines to their full lengths, catching the base of a lower-hanging branch. Albany gasped as the pair suddenly jostled upwards. The mud held fast and caught Albany before he could be fully lifted off the ground, but the addition of the hoist had significantly lightened his workload. Arlo felt the shoulders he was perched on relax._

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_“Thanks.”_

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_Arlo beamed with pride. “No problem! Nothing Team Double A can’t do when we’re together!”_

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_Albany paused. His gaze drifted down to his still-submerged feet. Arlo’s chipper smile quickly fell.  
  
“…Albany?”  
  
His partner glanced back up, craning his neck to look back at Arlo, a strange glassiness fading away from his eyes.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
The corners of the Machop’s mouth twitched into an uncomfortably forced smile. He nodded slowly, then lifted a foot to take another step. Arlo frowned, but with Albany’s gaze fixed and the ground again, he got the sense that this conversation was over.  
_   
\---  
  
The moment Arlo’s vines secured the nearest branch, he was torn free from the mire. There was no additional weight from a partner to keep him down, no—he was left swinging limply by his own vines. In an instant, he regretted freeing himself. His entire body seemed to wail in pain, from aching joints to small, untreated cuts and burns. He stared helplessly up at the nearest adjacent branch, now seeming like such a daunting target.

Resigning himself to his fate, Arlo relaxed his vines. With a splash, he was right back where he started, motionless in the swamp. His tears flowed freely, mixing with the mud and bog water.

“I’m sorry, Albany,” he choked through tired, defeated sobs. “I’m so sorry…”

Arlo laid his head down, no energy left to care about the filth that surrounded him. With the last ounce of his strength, he reached under his team scarf, clutching at the badge hidden underneath. It was a childish notion, but Arlo hoped, nonetheless, that wherever Albany was, he could somehow feel his presence through his own badge.

Still, Arlo laid, exhaustion slowly taking him once more. As they had been regained, his senses were smothered once more. Just as his hearing slipped with his consciousness, the snapping of branches and rustles of leaves overhead reached his ears. He had fainted before he could process the noise, but that did not change the fact that just above him, the canopy was suddenly alive with activity, dozens of sets of eyes peering down at the broken Pokemon below.

\---

“Albany…”

Albany’s head pounded, a stabbing pain that made his eyes water.

“Se réveiller, Albany.”

His energy was back, but he had not an ounce of will to open his eyes.

“Albany, please… I do not have much time…”

A hand curled gently around his arm, and just like that, the pain dispersed, seemingly into thin air. His entire body relaxed, every inch of him grateful for the respite from his injuries. His eyes slowly opened, blearily adjusting to the green light that flooded his vision.

“Another dream…?” He whispered under his breath.

The scene was familiar. A blank, swirling green abyss, as far as the eye could see. There he was again, suspended in space, laying comfortably on his side, even with no steady ground in sight. It took him only a few more seconds to realize that in this dreamscape, he was not alone.

The familiar flickering figure of his dreams was back, his arm in her hands. The ethereal ballgown she always seemed to wear billowed out around the pair as she knelt beside him, and though her green hair fell over her face, it left a perfect window for one of her piercing red eyes, which gazed down at him with sympathy. His heartbeat slowed and an air of tranquility washed over him at the sight of her.

Gardevoir. The individual all his worries, griefs and doubts had been centered around, and yet, now that she was in front of him, they all seemed to fade away. Fading, much like Gardevoir herself, who flickered in and out of visibility, though her grip on his hand never loosened.

“Gardevoir…?” He croaked out.

“Salut,” she whispered, smiling down at him. “I am glad… glad we could finally meet.”

Her smile faded away as she flickered once again. “Though… I did not want it to happen like this.”

“Am I dead, Gardevoir?” the words spilled like vomit from his mouth as his last conscious memories came back to light. “Is this… the spirit world?”

Gardevoir laughed softly. “Non, non,” she shook her head. “This is but another dream.”

Just like that, Albany’s pulse gained in speed. A million thoughts, possibilities, anxieties, _questions_ , they were all swirling around in his mind, and if this was anything like his previous dreams, he’d only have so long to get them all out…

“Gardevoir, I—what’s going to happen? Is Arlo safe? Am I going to die? Am—Am I really the human who—”

He was silenced as Gardevoir placed a finger to his lips.

“Please, Albany. There is much to say, and I fear—”

She faded completely from view in an instant. Albany’s breath hitched, only to relax when her figure returned after a few stressful seconds had passed.

“—there is not much time to do so. My connection to your dreams, it is still unstable. You are in grave danger, but as a spirit, try as I might, I cannot help you beyond our discussions in these dreams. You must—”

As she flickered again, Albany felt the hand holding his loosen its grip, and pain crept back into his nerves, ever-so-slightly.

‘—survive,” she continued as she faded back in. “I am scrambling to do what I can for you in the spirit world, but, alas, it is not much. But know that you are my—”

She vanished again, and Albany’s hand hit the floor. Pain coursed through his body as the agonizing final announcement that she was gone. Slowly, the green dreamscape faded away, dissolving into a daunting blackness. Just before the dream slipped from him completely, Albany swore the darkness was leering back at him, chortling to itself about how, more than ever, he was miserably alone.


	4. For Their Sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Arlo comes to his senses, Absol scrambles to seek help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,
> 
> I am so sorry this went quiet for so long.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from Alakazam’s line “There is something that concerns me... but it should go unspoken for now. For their sake...”

“Is he dead-dead?”

“Hope not!”

“Not moving... not good sign!”

“No, no! Ear twitched! Ear twitched, see?!”

Arlo winced as something firmly pinched his left ear and gave it a tug. 

Ow, what a rude awakening...

“Twitchy-twitch! Saw it, saw it!”

“Not dead, then! Alive! Alive! Haha!”

Voices all around him laughed and chattered triumphantly. Arlo blearily tried to hide his face in his forelegs. Two greasy little fingers suddenly jabbed around his eyelids, pushing on the skin to force his eyelid open.

Through bleary, swimming vision, Arlo could vaguely make out several purple shapes crowded around him. As his eyes slowly readjusted, the blobs of color moved about erratically. His stomach churned at the overwhelming visual stimulation, and soon enough, there was a dull roar of voices to go with it.

“Oh, alive! Really alive!”

“He made it! Made it good and strong!”

“Must be tough Bulbasaur! So strong!”

“Super strong! Strong, strong, haha!”

If it wasn’t for the grip still on his ear, Arlo would have folded them both back. In a situation like his, this was decidedly _not_ how he wanted to be roused. Nausea from overstimulation joined the already present churning in his gut from his entire sorry struggle in the marsh. Another finger jabbed him, this time his left cheek. 

“Strong Bulbasaur. You say something?”

Arlo opened his mouth to let out a long, pained groan. That seemed satisfactory to the purple Pokémon overwhelming his field of view, who again resumed their excited chattering. His vision was slowly sharpening, however, exposing more of their features as it did. Bright, buggy eyes and giant ears to match; swinging tails tipped with a large hand. Arlo had seen such unique Pokémon... in passing, maybe? While familiar, he couldn’t put a name to the species. 

Whatever they were, they were noisy. Arlo rolled onto his side, nestling his head into the long marsh grass and reeds he laid upon. Much to his dismay, in a matter of seconds, he was again surrounded by the clan of Pokémon.

“What wrong, strong Bulbasaur?”

“You ill? Hurt? We help! Right?”

“Yes, yes!! We help lots!”

“Maybe needs food?”

Arlo winced. Now they were even louder. One hand-tail grabbed his left rear leg and pulled it out to its full length, immediately making room for a pair of paws to feel it for injuries. He closed his eyes and forced himself to bear the unwanted contact. He held still as stone while two of the group poked and prodded at his bulb, and suppressed a shudder when they splashed it with bog water. His teeth ground against each other while one of the Pokémon crammed a finger in his ear to “inspect” it.

“What this?” One of the crowd mused as a hand slipped under Arlo’s team scarf, where his badge was still safely tucked away.

“ **Don’t touch me!** ” Arlo hissed, springing to his feet. 

His knees buckled from the rapid action, but not a bit of sense remained in him to care. His vines snapped from their resting place in his bulb, rearing threateningly at the pests. Ears folded against his skull, his lips curled into a snarl that sent the Pokémon fleeing back into the cover of the willow trees. 

He let himself collapse the moment they were gone. They hung back in the trees, watching him fearfully. Arlo turned his head away from the unwanted audience, burying his face again in the grass.

Arlo couldn’t have had more than thirty seconds of peace before he heard them again. 

“...Is Bulbasaur okay?”

One of his eyes slid open to meet the gaze of a single Pokémon who had stepped forward, away from the group. “Okay”? Arlo rested his chin on his left foreleg. He was a lot of things right now, but “okay” was certainly not one of them. His gaze drifted downward, where the grass stood stagnant around him.

“...Not okay, then,” it finished the thought for him. 

Arlo nodded sullenly, closing his eyes again. For once, some level of silence persisted, finally granting him enough peace to re-gather his thoughts. Apparently the noise had been a better distraction for him, however. As soon as he was back to contemplating where to go now and, worst of all, Albany’s fate, tears began to bead in his already dry, puffy eyes. They rolled down his cheek without a hint of subtlety and Arlo only buried his face in the crook of his foreleg. Just like that, all of his injuries suddenly faded away, irrelevant and overshadowed by the crushing pain on his heart. 

•••

“Ninetales...?”

Only one of the Sealeo had bothered to acknowledge him. Absol watched as the blubbery Pokémon rolled slowly onto its back, away from the icy lake bank. 

“Yes,” he pressed, drawing closer to the Sealeo in question. “I have reason to believe she resides somewhere near here. If you have any information...”

The Sealeo yawned. A flipper came up to “scratch” at his bulbous belly. 

“What a puzzle,” he bellowed with a tired smile. “I’ve never heard of any Ninetales.”

Absol prayed he didn’t look too frustrated, but after so many failed attempts at getting information from the local Pokémon, his usually saint-like patience was growing dangerously thin. Of course. He’d seen rocks more active than this clan of Sealeo, why would he have gotten anything from them? What a waste of time.

“Well, thank you for your efforts,” he sighed halfheartedly, turning away.

“Oh, but,” Sealeo continued. “Maybe you could ask a Delibird. They go all over the world doing deliveries... I’m sure they’ve seen all kinds of Pokémon. Maybe a Ninetales, even.”

Absol perked up. “Delibird. That’s an excellent idea,” he mused with a small, triumphant hop. “Where may I meet one?”

The Sealeo fell silent again. Finally, he opened his mouth, filling Absol’s heart with a flicker of hope, only to draw in more air for another yawn. Smacking his lips tiredly, Sealeo shrugged his blubbery shoulders. 

“Maybe run into one on a delivery route...?”

He sat up, turning his head to the other members of the resting colony.

“Do any of you know where to find a Delibird? This Abra wants to know how to meet one...”

The Disaster Pokémon grimaced. “Absol...” 

“Sorry,” Sealeo smiled apologetically as the rest of the colony murmured amongst themselves. “Azelf.”

Oh, there was no point in correcting him. It would be generous to say he was listening halfway.

“Running into one would be hard,” commented a mother from a few feet away, Spheal pups nestled into her flippers. “But trying to get something delivered might bring one straight to you.”

“Thank you!” Absol shouted out to her. “But... where would the nearest post office be? I have lived in this area my whole life and have never come across one.”

Apparently, that was one too many questions. The Sealeo colony resumed their business, which entailed, well—absolutely nothing but lounging around the bay. Absol shook his head at the sight.

At the very least, he had gotten some information. He scaled the frozen and rocky shore quickly, soon finding his way back on solid ground. He had a lead, but...

A post office? Where in this entire tundra could he even hope to find that? And not only that, but make it timely enough to even hope to save his allies?

Absol sighed to himself, then began to trek south, following his own footprints from minutes ago that were already nearly swallowed by fresh snowfall. Any starting point would be worthwhile. Provided this one lead him somewhere...

He flinched, stopping in his tracks as a sensation of foreboding coursed through his   
body like an electric shock. Immediately, his gaze flew to the sky. An endless gray horizon peering through the downpour of snow, as it had always been. Absol’s muscles tensed, prepared for spring into a run.

Yet, no disaster came. The earth never quaked. No incredible blizzard came sweeping in to swallow even the most adaptable of Pokémon whole. Not even a clap of thunder or a roar of an approaching tidal wave—and certainly no looming shadows of ambushers. 

Absol took a hesitant step forward, and still, no disaster came. The feeling of foreboding remained impossible to shake, though, and Absol’s instincts had never steered him wrong before. It was some kind of warning, and wasn’t to be taken slightly. Even as he slowly returned to an average walk, his muscles remained taut and his bristling furs refused to stand back down. 

Something had to be coming, and for the first time, he couldn’t figure out what.


End file.
